On My Way
by fowl68
Summary: There was no Konoha shinobi, not anymore.


On My Way

_**On My Way**_

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing except my notebooks full of ideas.

**Author's Note:** I was watching the deleted scenes of _Serenity_ and this popped into my head. The words in bold are Shepherd Book's prayer for the dead.

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"_For us, it seems, the battle has ended. So be it. We lay down our swords, only that others may pick them up and fight on."-Riverwind__**(Dragonlance)**_

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**Lord, I'm walking your way.**

His footsteps were weary and he stumbled slightly as he walked, completely silent, through the large gates…or, what was left of them. The once magnificent wood and metal gates were burned and blackened from some ancient fire. They still loomed over the beaten and overgrown paths to the village, but they no longer held their grandeur. Dark eyes glanced around, taking everything and nothing in at the same time.

There was so much devastation, and yet, the man still sensed _something_, some embers of life in the old village. He followed his instincts towards that something, finding a run-down apartment building with ashes spread across its brick walls and a single light in one of the windows.

**Let me in, for my feet are sore.**

The man climbed the three flights of dusty and partially rotted stairs, rather than use the window, as he would have once upon a time. Nothing stirred within the abandoned apartments. He no longer had to look up at the brass plaque with the apartment number, 308. It was just a little below his line of vision and he knocked sharply twice.

It took a few minutes before the door opened part-way, revealing a head of soft blonde hair, a whiskered face, and tired blue eyes. Those same eyes widened slightly when they saw him.

"…That really you, Sasuke?"

Sasuke nodded, his throat hurt, for the road had been long and he had had little to drink. The blonde's worn face lit up in a smile as he opened the door the rest of the way.

**My clothes are ragged.**

Naruto led his long ago friend to the rickety table, where a mug of what looked like hot chocolate…well, warm chocolate, sat. Unconsciously, he reached into the splintered cabinets and pulled out another cracked mug and a tea bag.

From his peripheral vision, Naruto could see that Sasuke had felt the weight of the world just as clearly as he had. The pale face had a slightly unhealthy look, hollowed cheekbones and dust from the traveled roads covered his face. The ebony hair had grown a little lighter, just a shade, but Naruto could tell. The onyx eyes had been a little dull, but upon seeing the blonde, had lightened slightly. His clothes, the simplest one could find, were thin and hung on his lanky frame.

Naruto knew the feeling. The post-war effects had been hard, no money and a precious few survivors. Naruto had stayed in the shell of the village, knowing Sasuke would return eventually. They had tried to rebuild, but they lacked the manpower and, for all but a few of the survivors, the willpower to keep up with it. After the war, Sasuke had left again, this time not as a traitor, but simply as a wanderer. He had given up the hitai-ate, but not his loyalty. Naruto hadn't asked him why, nor had he gone after him. The brunette had said he would return and he never broke his promises. So Naruto stayed put, both of their headbands in his pocket and had continued to try to rebuild.

There was no Konoha shinobi, not anymore. They were the last ones left; the others had been long-since dead or missing. Naruto had gotten a stray letter from Kakashi, saying that both he and Iruka had survived. The former sensei had gone their separate ways however, and had no way of knowing where the other might be. It had wished him good luck, and that was the last he had heard of his teachers.

**Look in my eyes, Lord, and my sins will play out on them as on the screen.**

Sasuke accepted the tea gratefully, speaking for the first time in a long time.

"Thanks."

Naruto knew he wasn't speaking of the tea.

"It's been eleven years. What have you done here for so long?"

Eleven years, Naruto mused. Had it really been so long since the brothers in everything but blood had parted? They'd been twenty-three then. Thirty-four, Naruto realized. They had made it past their twenties. The fact, while not shocking him, still mildly surprised him. Most shinobi never lived that long._ But you're not a shinobi anymore though. All you have are memories, some ability, and a pair of tattered headbands._

Naruto silenced the voice and replied, "Tried to rebuild. It's not really getting anywhere. The handful of-"Naruto didn't know what to call them. They had been former shinobi, but had retired before the war, mostly old jounin's, "People that survived don't have any of the old strength left and the ones that do don't have any will. We've lost everything."

"Perhaps. You don't seem too inclined to give up though, do you?" The obsidian gaze, still powerful even now, watched him.

A bitter half-smile made its way onto his face. "I don't give up and I won't give in." Naruto repeated the lines from so many years ago, as he had spoken in the exam with a fire behind his eyes.

Sasuke seemed to be about to say something, but changed tactics mid-thought. "I saw Iruka."

Naruto's eyes shot up, cobalt eyes that seemed so much darker with far too many burdens sharp.

"Or, I saw someone that looked a great deal like him. About eight years old and it looked almost exactly like him. Brown hair, brown eyes and dark skin. He smiled and laughed the same way too."

The two old friends understood the implications of the statement. Iruka might have moved on, and his new precious people would wonder what kind of life he would have led in order to obtain the scar across his nose or the ones criss-crossing across his chest. He probably never would have told them either. They knew they never would.

Naruto let his head fall into his hands, suddenly feeling very old and exhausted. Why was it that he himself could never move on? Maybe it was because he had never known anywhere else. He had never lived anywhere but Konoha and to be away from the comforting presence of the Hokage rocks would seem so wrong.

As if reading his thoughts, Sasuke said, "This village is a ghost town, Naruto. We've seen a lot of bad things here, but we've seen a lot of good things too. We were blessed with good friends and something to live for. Even the Hokage rocks are gone. If I didn't memorize where they were, I would never know that it had once held the proud faces of five Hokage."

Naruto sighed and looked up at his best friend. There was an acceptance in those eyes and Naruto sighed as he got up, walking as he had been for the past eleven years, with a slight limp, towards the window.

**Read them all.**

Sasuke had seen the tiredness in the cerulean eyes. He was tired of fighting. They'd seen too much of death and war and they'd buried their closest family over a decade ago. They'd killed and fought and it had all caught up with them. Sasuke stood up as well, going to Naruto and placing a thin hand on his broad shoulder.

The blonde turned and Sasuke saw what he was looking at. Pictures of all of them. On Hinata and Kiba's wedding day, at a festival, of the old teams and finally the last one of all of their precious people as they sat at a long dinner table with laughter forever frozen on their faded faces.

Sasuke, suddenly feeling every single one of his thirty-four years, let his head fall on Naruto's shoulder, his hand falling back down to his side.

"We need to leave, Naruto. It's killing you, staying in these ruins. Maybe you can find them again. Maybe you can forget all of this ever happened."

Naruto's sad smile was heart-breakingly familiar. "I can't forget this, Sasuke. I can't forget something that's a part of me. I'm reminded every time I look in the mirror, every time I take a step."

Sasuke knew what he was saying. Every time he took a shower or changed, he would see the red swirl on his left forearm, the reason he always wore long-sleeve shirts. He knew what it felt like to be afraid of your own reflection, but for him it was slightly different. Every time he saw his mirror image, he would remember Itachi's face, that last peaceful smile. He remembered his missions every time he took a breath-a wound gone too deep and had killed his lungs. He couldn't fight anymore, not unless he wanted to collapse of weakness.

Naruto saw the whiskers that were the tell-tale marks of the long dormant Kyuubi, the blonde hair and facial features of his father and every time he walked, he would feel the limp, a leg that had suffered from a compound fracture that had never healed right.

**Forgive what you can and send me on my path.**

The next morning, the two stood on a split path. The shorter blonde, malnutrition having forever left him petite, leaning on his good leg, a pack containing blankets and food slung over his left shoulder. He slipped a hand into his pocket and held something out for his best friend. A discolored and threadbare headband with slightly rusted, a faint slash going through the ancient symbol.

The taller took it and looked at it like an old friend, before smiling and putting it in his own pocket. The blonde man hugged his companion as tightly as his old muscles would allow. The brunette hugged back just as tightly. Perhaps they knew it was the last time they would ever see each other. They both let go, and with a firm nod on both parts, turned around and began walking.

And among ruined buildings, a single room that had broken and creaking floorboards with a rickety table and moonlit photos sitting on a windowsill was left abandoned and untouched.

**I will walk until you bid me rest.**


End file.
